Greta said softly, her hands in front of her, her fingers moving back and forth over the plate. She had yet to touch her food, and he sensed she had something on her mind, something she was trying to ask him, but was wary of. It might have only been a few days since she’d been here, and he’d practiced self-control in refraining from taking her, but she was still smart to be afraid of him. He’d never hurt her, and might be able to reach the level of emotions a human did, but he cared for her in a capacity in which he’d never experienced. She might be legally his property, but that didn’t mean he saw her as a piece of meat for his sole enjoyment. “By Rogue law you are mine, my property to do with as I please,” he said, but didn’t admit she was more than that to him. He couldn’t explain it to her in words, didn’t want to because it would prove he was softer, not this strong, emotionless Rogue Enforcer. She nodded, looked down at her plate, and breathed out. “So that means I am just something for your pleasure?
